Time Well Spent
by Kaliotrimma
Summary: Relationships can be difficult things. But suffering together can halve the pain. "America will never let this go." CanadaxUkraine
1. Chapter 1

Okay! More Hetalia. This absolutely has history behind it, lol. Canada, Ukraine. I legit did some research here. GASP.

Canada and Ukraine have enjoyed a good relationship diplomatically over the years. I, like many others, wanted to explore how they would interact, since Hidekaz-san hasn't shown them together. Ever. This will absolutely be an ongoing fic, with this chapter just being the establishment of the relationship. Definite focus on Ukraine because I love her.

At the end of this I put together a simplified (no it is not) timeline of the interaction between Ukraine and Canada over the years, as well as what was going on with that poor girl. Knowing a little bit of history might increase the enjoyment of reading this, ffffft. Or maybe not.

Canada, Ukraine, etc (c) Hidekaz-san. Am only borrowing.

* * *

The first time they met, it was awkward for both of them.  
Her, because as hard as she tried (which was harder than most) her gaze slipped from him, like rain sliding off an umbrella .  
Him, because his own gaze continued to be drawn irresistibly toward her breasts, straining against the buttons of her shirt.

Despite the initial uncomfortable moments, they managed to socialize fairly well. Both knew, somehow, that the meeting of that day would impact the rest of their lives.

Not long passed before she could keep his gaze and concentrate only on him, hearing what he was saying. She never asked "Who?" of him. And even faster, he could see beyond her chest to the woman that she was. They became fast friends, spending days just relaxing, watching TV, talking. They had enough things in common to discuss; latitude lines, weather, hobbies, friends and foes.

They would talk about family. Ukraine telling tales of her siblings as children kept Canada's horrified attention; knowing the people they became, hearing that they were sweet at one point never ceased to fascinate him. And Ukraine would laugh with abandon, wrapping her arms around her aching ribs, when Canada would hotly exclaim, "And ANOTHER thing about America..."

They felt they had reached an understanding, comfortable with their situation. Sometimes they would fight, tiny squabbles over cultural differences, or things like Ukraine's tendency to apologize for everything, or Canada's seeming obsession with maple syrup. But they remained close, with people visiting and moving between the two countries.

The war made things different. Ukraine had been thrown into the struggle, her brother's empire collapsed into ruin. She had declared independence from him after that. But her brother, in his unbalanced state after such a fall, had been walked over by his leader. Revolution had occurred, and suddenly, Ukraine was a member of the Soviet Union. She had visited still, doing her best to keep cheerful. Even then, Canada could feel the pain radiating from her, and did his best in every way to support her.

She had come to him one day, upset and confused. Her jacket was new; long and unfamiliar, it somehow made her smile seem cold and distant. Canada had turned the heat up in a desperate attempt to get her to take it off. Something about the coat seemed almost oppressive, its military cut and style. War didn't suit her.

Their meeting had been awkward, but in a way totally different from the first. Conversation had been stiff and fake. It was like they had been just going through the motions. They had avoided looking at each other, staring at the floor, the walls, the tasteful yet completely fake flower arrangement Canada had on his dinner table. They made painfully dull small talk there on the couch, where they had made so many happy memories.

And Ukraine had torn the coat from her shoulders, sinking to her knees. Tears had streaked down her face, leaner than Canada remembered, and suddenly, he could see how the flesh had melted from her already lean form. He had held her there, on the floor of his apartment, for hours as she cried. She had told him, sobbing, how her people were starving and hurting, and he could see how their pain tore into her like a blade. He had held her with all his strength, whispering that, no matter what, he would help her people. And true to his word, he had taken them in without comment or complaint, merely doing all he could to make sure they survived, dancing in circles to avoid bringing Russia's wrath upon either himself or Ukraine.

When the Soviet Union fell, he had heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that finally, Ukraine would be set on the path to recovery. He was one of the first there to acknowledge her independence, standing ready with a bouquet of flowers, smiling despite tears. Her embrace had been warm, his chest tight with emotion, and more tears had fallen freely. They opened embassies, and had dinner together in what could only be described as a celebration of life returning to what it should have been like all along.

Not long after, he had taken her to a hockey game, as a way to perhaps wind back and relax. She had smiled and laughed again, and the warmth of her happiness had left him breathless. Her smile had brought the beauty back into her too-thin face. And she had teased him like she used to, when he had cried. (But only a little.) He had told her in a thin voice that it was because he was happy for her. Before long, she was shedding tears as well, their arms around each other, laughing through tears. They knew that the hardest part was over, and they had made it through. That night, they declared a special partnership, the first official agreement between the two. That night, she had been the girl he remembered, who laughed and cried with equal passion. That night, some of their joint suffering had vanished.

That night, she had kissed him in the chill air outside of his apartment. Her lips were warm and full, a definitive sign of her returning health. They had held each other, wrapped in a blanket on Canada's now-threadbare couch, merely sharing body heat and being together. Canada had planted soft kisses on her cheeks, and he had whispered, "Україна." She had cried then, knowing just in the way he said her name how much he cared. After that, no one remembered who had said the words first.

Ukraine hadn't left that night. Whispered admissions of love had led them both to the gentle comfort of a shared bed. After years of knowing each other, of bonding and falling in love, each others' touch had been familiar and desired. They made love that night for the first time, in the flickering light of a dozen candles.

When they woke the next morning, she had smiled warmly at him, exactly the way he remembered. Her eyes, staring directly into his, were full of gentle love, a lingering happiness that would never leave.

And time went on.

* * *

IT SEEMED LIKE THE RIGHT PLACE TO STOP.

WALL OF TEXT AHEAD. Focused on Ukraine, because most of you guys are American. Which means you should know what Canada was up to during these decades, RIGHT? RIGHT??

Canada and Ukraine meet, 1900s, as Ukrainians begin to migrate to Canada. Ukraine enters WWI as part of the Central Powers (under Austria-Hungary) & Triple Entente (under Russia). But with WWI's end, both had a failure to be empires. The Russian revolution set off the Ukrainian War of Independence. They lost. The new Soviet Union was expanding. Ukraine fell under Soviet rule. Stalin led the Soviet Industrialization. Ukraine is an agricultural nation, so Stalin's dick move resulted in the Holodomor, a forced famine. (Side note: recognized as genocide.) Somewhere between 4 to 7 million lives were lost due to crop failure and the seizure of rations by the government. Ukrainians began to migrate en mass to Canada, since apparently going to America to seek your fortune seemed cliche to them, good for the Ukrainians. This continued up until WWII.

Germany and the Soviet Union BOTH pull dick moves and partition Poland! WAR! Ukraine didn't do anything amazing during WWII except be a real fucking trooper against Germany.

WWII ends. But Ukraine's battle is not over. In the late 1940s, drought hits , kicking off yet another famine. AND Ukrainians were the victims of forced deportation under Stalin. Guess where they went? If you said Canada, you are wrong. Siberia. So instead of waiting around for Stalin to ship them to Siberia, a significant amount of people ran off. Guess where they went? If you said Canada, you are correct. Meanwhile, Ukraine becomes an industrial leader. Things are looking good. Not to last.

Fate hates the Ukraine. Chernobyl. Enough said. Four years later, Ukraine goes for independence again. Success! They elected their first president in 1991, and a week later the Soviet Union was officially dissolved. Canada was the first Western nation to recognize Ukraine's independence, a day after the election. 1992, Canada opens his first embassy, and Ukraine opens one too. The next year, they both open consulates.

In 1994, the two countries jointly declared a Special Partnership, which I basically see as common law marriage between them ahaha. This was renewed in 2001.

FUN FACTS: There are currently a bunch of Canadian organizations offering aid to Ukraine, like the CIDA. There's also a Canada-Ukraine Chamber of Commerce.

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, CONGRATULATIONS. Your reward is the general ideas of what the rest of this will be like. Because balancing family and romance is hard. Expect taunting America, France making runs for Canada's woman, England crying over the sweetness (and beating up France), Russia's contradictory reactions, and Belarus wanting to become one.


	2. GO HOME!

OH. UH. HI GUYS. Up for wacky sibling hijinks with a side of serious? I hope so because Canada's favorite brother is here to never go home I mean visit.

DISCLAIMER OF AMAZING SNAPPINESS: Hetalia? It's not mine. Belongs to Hidekaz. If it was mine, oh. Dear. You have no idea.

* * *

Canada sighed, slumping over the table. America gave him a 'You are supposed to pay attention to my inane scheme' look, then beat his brother with the wad of papers in his hand.  
"Oi, oi! This is a an important meeting, bro! Pay attention. So as I was saying..."  
"It's not a meeting," Canada muttered, exasperated. "You just stole my couch. Can you make whatever you have to say make sense?"  
"Hey, that's not a very appropriate tone, dude. What are you so pissed about?"  
"I'm not pissed. Just say whatever you wanna say."  
"Hmm." America put his papers down with exaggerated care. "Okay. AS I WAS SAYING. I have this brilliant plan, see, but I don't have the supplies for it-"  
"Wait," Canada cut in. "Yet again, I am not helping you make a giant robot."  
America fell silent for a moment, a pout forming on his face. It made him look like he was five. "I'm your brother," he whined, "You're supposed to help me!"  
Canada gave him a very deliberate look. "Do you remember what happens when you try to force me to do something I don't want to do?"  
"Yeah yeah, you'll side with England and try to beat me down. You're such a momma's boy."  
"It's not my fault you felt the need to make me your newest state during your stupid rebellion. And do you recall 1812? Hmm?"  
America gave him a pained look. "Man, I know you were mad but did you HAVE to burn down the White House?"  
"I could have painted it pink," Canada drawled, checking his watch. "America, is that all you wanted to say? I refuse to be party to your schemes of defeating Japan's technology. He already has two giant robots and it hurt your pride, right?"  
"They're not functional." America muttered, flushing slightly. "They just light up."  
"But it's the principal of the thing, isn't it." Canada sighed, standing. "All right, get out."  
"What? No, man, I brought a new video game! Look, look! Play me." America waved a case frantically, a manic grin on his face. "I'll totally win this time."  
A wry smile came to Canada's face. America, no matter what else, was terrible at video games. Canada was not. He couldn't let the opportunity go. "Okay, fine, one match. Once I win, you leave."  
"Fine! I'm gonna kick your ass!"  
Canada's smile widened. This was how America always was. He'd talk big, then have nothing to back it up. "Good luck with that, brother."

"Broooo," America whined, his thumbs flailing against the controller, "That's totally cheating!"  
"Is not, you just suck at this." Canada shot back, staring calmly at the screen as fire rained down. America let out a angry 'tch' and pouted as, for the third time that day, the words PLAYER 2 WINS! appeared on the screen.  
"I think you're cheating." America insisted.  
"I think you're a sore loser."  
"Oh yeah? Well, I guess-"  
America's retort was silenced as the doorbell rang. A horrified expression crossed Canada's face. "What time is it?!" he yelped, jumping to his feet. "Augh, you should have left ten minutes ago! Go home, America!"  
"No way! Who're you expecting?" America's face twisted into a shit-eating grin. Canada was already running to the door, waving his hands at his brother in a shooing motion that he knew was futile. "Argh! Just- don't be you!" Canada wailed. "Be a nice person for once!"  
"I am totally a nice person!" America protested, then fell silent, peering intently as Canada opened the door.  
"Hi," Canada said breathlessly. "And, sorry in advance."  
America's gaze cut into his back as Ukraine clasped his hands in hers and kissed his cheek. "For what, Canada? Oh!" Her hands rose to her mouth as she spotted America, whose eyes stared intently at her from the couch. "You didn't tell me your brother would be here," she said faintly, a worried expression in her eyes.  
"He was supposed to have left," Canada admitted, flushing.  
"Oh, I can come back later," Ukraine said quickly, her cheeks pink. "I don't want to intrude!"  
"No, no!" Canada said quickly. "I'm getting rid of him!" He gave America a pointed look, and America grinned. "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend, Matt~ introduce me, introduce me."  
"She knows who you are," Canada sighed. "I think it would be better if you left."  
"Why, so you can be alone with the pretty girl? Really Matt, I am impressed." America waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
"She's right here!" Canada wailed. "You're so rude!"  
"I'll go! I'm sorry, Matthew, I didn't mean to be a nuisance!" Ukraine placed a hand against his arm, giving him a pleading look.  
"No, Katyusha, it's fine!"  
America's grin vanished. "Katyusha? Sounds kind of... Russian."  
A chill worked its way down Canada's spine. Suddenly, he realized why Ukraine had been so anxious to leave. "Go home, America," he said quietly.  
"Who is she." America demanded, a hardness entering his eyes. "Matt, I will not. Not let some Russian girl use you."  
"She's not Russian, Al!" Canada said in a cracking voice. Ukraine's hands caught the back of his shirt.  
"Matt, it's okay," she said, her voice straining. He knew it meant she was on the verge of tears. "I understand... that your brother and my Russia-chan are still not getting along..."  
"So you're related to him." America said flatly. Canada gave him a scathing look. "America. Go. Home."  
"Not until I know you're safe!"  
"She's not dangerous!"  
"Who is she?!"  
Ukraine let out a tiny, almost inaudible sniff. "I'm Ukraine. I-I wish I could say, it's nice to meet you... I'll go, Matthew!" Her hands left him as she fled, slamming the door behind her.  
"Katyusha! No, wait! Come back!" Canada flung the door open, intent on chasing her down the hall, to find that she had merely sunk to the floor in tears. "Oh, Katyusha."  
"I'm so sorry, Matthew..." she wailed, "I didn't mean to-"  
"No, it's okay." Canada murmured, "Just... go wait in my room. I'll handle America."  
"Are you sure it wouldn't be better for me to go?"  
"No, stay here." Canada kissed her cheeks lightly, extending a hand to help her up. She took it, her hands suddenly cold to the touch. He bit his lip, knowing she got cold when she was upset. She sniffled, and he hustled her quickly into his bedroom, pointedly ignoring America.  
"Matthew-"  
"Shh. I'll be back in just a minute, okay? Please, stop crying." After sitting her down on the bed, he pressed his lips firmly to hers. Canada gave her a nervous smile, and Ukraine returned it through her tears. "Okay?"  
She nodded briefly, her hands clasped tightly. "I'm sorry, Matthew..."  
"It's not like I didn't expect it," Canada said in what he hoped was a casual tone. "I was just, kind of hoping I guess, that America wouldn't take it that way..."  
"O-oh..." Ukraine looked down. "I suppose... that I was hoping to put this off... I knew it would happen, but I wanted very much for him to like me. He's your brother, so... it was something that was important to me..."  
"Katyusha, he's not looking at you, he's blinded by your brother. It's not that he dislikes you as much as... I'm sorry, this sounds so stupid! He thinks he needs to protect me from you, I think."  
"Matthew... go talk to him, okay? I'll be fine. I can wait."  
"Mm. I'll take care of it." Canada stood, crossing his room in quick strides. As he opened the door again, he turned to face her. "Katyusha? I love you."  
Ukraine beamed, her cheeks pink. "I love you too, Matthew."  
"I'll be right, right back. Riiiiight back. In just a minute."  
"Go, you doofus! Go!"  
Laughing, Canada closed the door behind him. His grin vanished as he turned to face America.  
"Bro." America said quietly. His jaw was set, eyes cold. "I don't know what the hell is going on. I have no idea. I don't know if I overreacted or not. Just tell me what's going on."  
Canada sighed. "Al. Sit down."  
"Tell me-"  
"Just sit down!" Canada snapped. America gritted his teeth and sat. "You want to know? Okay. I will tell you. I met her years and years ago. Before World War One. That's how long. It's nothing to do with Russia, he's not using her to get to you through me. Okay? That's all. I know you were all geared up for a big dramatic fight, but too bad."  
An almost guilty look crossed America's face. For a moment he could only stare at Canada, managing a weak, "Oh."  
"Happy?"  
"... man, I'm sorry. I didn't think- why haven't I met her before, then, if you've been together all this time?"  
Canada flushed slightly, avoiding his brother's gaze. "We... got together right after the Soviet Union fell."  
".. oh." America said again. "So. Telling me then would have been really, really not smart."  
The look Canada gave America conveyed far more than words ever could. America hung his head. "Not to mention- hey. Before I tell you this, you had better swear to behave. Swear it!"  
"Okay, but only because I jumped the gun. I swear I will remain as calm as possible." "During the Cold War I was helping her."  
"WHAT?"  
"No, no, not like that! Shhh. Keep your voice down, I have neighbors you know! During- stop giving me that look, Al- during the time when the Soviet Union was still going strong, Russia was insane."  
The look on his brother's face made him rethink the statement.  
"... okay, more insane than normal," Canada amended. "But he completely lost it without proper guidance. He was starving her to death."  
America's expression hardened. "Shit."  
"Not done. I'd known her for too long to just leave her, so I started sending supplies as carefully as possible, to keep Russia from noticing... and I was taking in her refugees. And, well, I kept taking them in, and I kept feeding her what I had, and... Bro. You remember Chernobyl."  
Canada lowered his gaze as America stared, his face a mask. "Do you remember where I was back then?"  
"No. No, I don't remember seeing you at all during that, I was so busy sustaining the panic."  
"I was helping her," Canada whispered. "I went over there, I hid from Russia constantly. I changed her bandages every day, gave her medication, helped her rebuild."  
America's fists clenched in his lap. "You were helping to repair the damage my technology did."  
"It's over now. It's over and she's okay. But it took so long."  
"You love her?"  
"I probably did all along." Canada muttered. "She's the sweetest girl I've ever known. She always remembers who I am, and she's always happy to see me. She makes me feel needed, bro."  
"I'm a man you know. And you are too. Explain it in a manly way. I mean I could understand if you said it was because she has huge-"  
"ALFRED!" Canada wailed, slamming his hands down on the table.  
"Well, they're pretty big.  
"That's- that's not important! I don't care about her tracts of land!"  
America grinned. "Sure, bro."  
"Man, I fell in love with her for her personality! I mean- yes, she's beautiful, she's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, but-" Canada stopped as a slender pair of arms surrounded his middle. "Eh? Katyusha?"  
"Of course it is, silly. Didn't you know it was me?"  
"Well... yes." Canada flushed. How could he not? What other pair of breasts could be pressing against his back?  
"Go on, go on. You were saying nice things about me."  
"Didn't I say I would be back?" Canada turned, pressing his lips against Ukraine's. "You never listen, eh?"  
Ukraine smiled devilishly, sliding a hand under his shirt. "Maybe you should teach me to listen."  
Canada laughed then, his brother staring at him in some kind of awe and disgust. Ukraine flushed, lowering her gaze. "I understand your reaction. My brother is..."  
America and Canada winced in unison. Ukraine smiled nervously.  
"I love him dearly, but he can be... cruel."  
"Do not. Say anything." Canada warned his brother. America raised his hands in surrender.  
"I get it, I get it." America shrugged, standing. "Please, allow me to apologize."  
Canada felt the first pang of suspicion at his brother's sudden, uncharacteristic suave behavior. "My actions were completely out of line."  
"E-eh? Oh, no, no, it wasn't your fault, I don't blame you at all..."  
America took Ukraine's hand, kissing it. "I do hope," he gave his brother a particularly shit-eating grin, "That we'll be able to get along splendidly."  
"ALFRED! _GO HOME!_"

* * *

DAMMIT AMERICA WOULD YOU JUST LEAVE ALREADY

Pffhaha brothers are the worst, huh? I wouldn't know, I don't have one, but America seems like he'd be THE MOST OBNOXIOUS BROTHER but in a loving way. I have no more clever things to say, so... I'm glad you made it this far, AND PLEASE REVIEW! I like having my ego stroked. I mean I appreciate criticism. *whistles innocently*


End file.
